Darkwing Duck
From the Associated Press:
"Call him Lazarus -- and then some.
Veterinarians in Florida say a plucky duck that survived two days in a refrigerator after being shot by a hunter has done it again -- this time after apparently dying on the operating table. Perky had been shot earlier this month and put into the hunter's refrigerator. Then the hunter's wife opened the door and the duck lifted its head, giving her a scare.
Saturday, Perky was declared dead during surgery, but veterinarians said it perked up a few seconds later after some chest compressions and oxygen. Wildlife rehabilitator Noni Beck of Goose Creek Wildlife Sanctuary said the duck is sensitive to the anesthesia and won't be having surgery again anytime soon."
I am determined, absolutely determined, that if I'm ever shot and put in a refrigerator that I'm going to live. If Perky the Duck can do it, I can. And then, if I'm to die on the operating table post-fridge, I will shrug off the sweet embrace of heaven and wake up once more. I'll spit blood in the surgeon's eye as he pronounces the time of death and say, "That all you got?"
I think I have a new outlook on life.
Go ahead, try to eat me for dinner. I dare you.
"Call him Lazarus -- and then some.
Veterinarians in Florida say a plucky duck that survived two days in a refrigerator after being shot by a hunter has done it again -- this time after apparently dying on the operating table. Perky had been shot earlier this month and put into the hunter's refrigerator. Then the hunter's wife opened the door and the duck lifted its head, giving her a scare.
Saturday, Perky was declared dead during surgery, but veterinarians said it perked up a few seconds later after some chest compressions and oxygen. Wildlife rehabilitator Noni Beck of Goose Creek Wildlife Sanctuary said the duck is sensitive to the anesthesia and won't be having surgery again anytime soon."
I am determined, absolutely determined, that if I'm ever shot and put in a refrigerator that I'm going to live. If Perky the Duck can do it, I can. And then, if I'm to die on the operating table post-fridge, I will shrug off the sweet embrace of heaven and wake up once more. I'll spit blood in the surgeon's eye as he pronounces the time of death and say, "That all you got?"
I think I have a new outlook on life.
Go ahead, try to eat me for dinner. I dare you.